Living or Deceased?
by Blondegirl14
Summary: Just a short little thing I typed up before bed tonight, nothing major.  Enjoy!


A/N: These characters may be the most amazing things I've ever seen, and if they don't get naked on this show soon, I'm going to riot!

Disclaimer: Don't own them, never have, never will. Unless someone wants to get them for me as an early birthday present

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Dr. Maura Isles did not like dealing with emotions. For one thing, they could not be categorized or stored, nor could they be given a number or a concrete name. She especially did not like dealing with her own emotions, hence her passion for spending time with the deceased. They didn't expect anything of her, and she felt comfortable working in the silence that was often the morgue. Relationships with the living were just too stressful for her complicated mind to handle. The give and take, did you shake hands or kiss on the cheek? There were too many options, and Maura did not care much for guessing games. Working with the dead had meant that she could avoid such games. She would return home at night to Bass, who, like a good husband, would greet her in silence, and then spend the rest of the night seated in front of the refrigerator. That she could deal with, and it was what made her happy. The living just didn't understand her need for quiet, her compulsive urge to understand what went on around her and her desire to just move quietly and fashionably through life.

Jane Rizzoli did not understand any of those things. She was loud, brash, rough around the edges, and often clothed in drab, dark colors. And yet somehow, the women had bonded one night after a case, Maura with her glass of upscale red wine, and Jane with her cheap draft beer. From that, Maura supposed what she could call a "friendship" had begun. That had been four years ago, and now, as the two women sat in the same booth they inhabited most every night, at the same bar across the street from the station, Maura couldn't help but wonder what she could call their friendship now. How could she explain the tingling in her arm whenever Jane playfully shoved her? What should she call the feeling that overcame her when, during one of their occasional sleepovers, she found herself completely content with life at that very moment? Seeing as Maura refused to guess when it came to anything, she settled on just ignoring such things until she could come up with a concrete term for whatever it was she was experiencing. It just so happened to have been last night, as they laughed over leftover takeout from the Chinese restaurant down the street, that the Doc had had an epiphany. Love; She was in love. It hit her like a ton of bricks, so much so that she had choked on her bourbon chicken, gulped the rest of her glass of wine, and promptly excused herself to the ladies room. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Maura could come up with only one word, Love.

That had been last night, and now that the feeling had a name, Maura struggled with the next move. Jane Rizzoli was about as straight as one of those republicans she occasionally saw on the television, so set in her ways that the mere thought of rainbow colors was enough to create a rise out of her. Though Maura couldn't remember a time when Jane had been adamantly outspoken about gays, she didn't think it was the kind of thing that the cop would be into supporting. She now tried desperately to maintain some sort of boundaries for the two of them. No more sleepovers, it would be far too easy for a slip up to occur. Drinks after work would have to be limited as well, and even as uneducated as she was in the art of human emotions, Maura had seen the hurt in Jane's eyes when the new restrictions were set in place. Suddenly Maura's nights in with Bass seemed boring compared to the fun she knew she could be having out with Jane. The wine she drank every night suddenly tasted chalky, and the number of Chinese takeout boxes drastically decreased. Seated on her sofa, half empty wine glass in hand out of mere habit, the Queen of the Dead fought back tears. This was exactly why she had avoided contact with the living for so long. This was why she had a tortoise for a pet and not a more social animal. And for the five thousandth one hundred thirty eighth time that day, Maura deeply regretted falling in love with Jane Rizzoli.

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A/N: Sorry it's so short, just a little something I had to get out of my head. Poor Maura, she's hopeless and I really do love her character and the way Sasha portrays her 3


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